


Eyes are the Window's

by TT40_Angst_Queen



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Dark, M/M, Not AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 08:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11123883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TT40_Angst_Queen/pseuds/TT40_Angst_Queen
Summary: Ryan has a dark secret.Colin has a dark secret.In the dead of night, secrets are exposed.





	Eyes are the Window's

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and kudos!

It was a dark night. A damp night. Raining, wet, stormy.

 

The perfect weather for burying a corpse.

 

Ryan made his way through the muck of the deep forest in the outskirts of Washington, his nondescript galoshes leaving commonly found patterns in the mud. No police would be able to trace him once he left the boots behind in the lake on the way back home. Over his shoulders he carried the corpse of his latest project;

 

Corbin Mancie. He was Ryan's latest project, his latest masterpiece. Corbin's gorgeous light brown, almost hazel eyes currently were floating in a decorative crystal jar in his Washington home in Bellingham. Colin had gone out tonight, so Ryan had used his secret room that he had bought the house for, and had some fun with Corbin after picking up the 28 year old when he found him walking down the highway, looking for a ride. It wasn't often he found such a close color of eyes to his lover's Hazel one's. He couldn't resist the urge to look for entertainment tonight, and the itch that tingled needle-like in his hands for the urge to create art grew to a blazing blistering inferno when he laid eyes on his latest blank canvas. The shaggy, dark brown, already greying hair and almost hazel eyes made him salivate at the gnawing urge to have Corbin spread out on his table, weak and helpless, squirming, screaming and whimpering,begging. Delicious, empowering, delectable, divine. It was a power trip and an adrenaline rush that Improv couldn't compare to, the rush that creating a masterpiece created. It was close, but it was no fine imported cigar.

 

He wondered what Colin was doing right now…

* * *

 

Colin ambled through the muck in a forest in the outskirts of Washington, tonight's entertainment slung over his shoulders like a sack of dead potatoes. He was a lot of fun;

 

Rylee Sticks, with his green eyes that were a shade too dark to be perfect, currently floating in an ornate jar in the Washington home he shared with his lover.  He went out tonight, as his lover said he was going to stay in. The burning itch to find tonight's entertainment caressed his senses like velvet, and made it impossible to resist when he found Rylee sitting homeless along an alleyway outside of a bar. He had almost given up and went out for a smoke before going home when the 25 year old gangly young man caught his attention. They had fun. Well. Colin did, Rylee just… made it more fun. The dancing flames… the glittering blades as an ocean of red gushed over them….art at its most primitive form… heaven... rejuvenating…relaxing...devine.

 

He wondered what Ryan was doing?

* * *

 

Ryan was just about to hit his shovel in the Earth when he hear a gasp, and he looked up;

 

“Col?”

 

“Ry?”

* * *

 

They had finished burying the bodies in silence, not awkward, nor tense. Just… silence. Just as comfortable as it would be if they were on the deck watching the stars cuddled up with a glass of wine.

 

They each silently got into their cars, cursing themselves for not noticing they had parked near another, and drove home.

 

Each had thoughts on what would be said, but neither were worried. After all, they had caught each other burying a body, it's not like either had a leg to stand on.

Unless you count the one's in their secret rooms…

 

Arriving home, they made their way to the kitchen. In synchronized harmony they poured themselves a finger of scotch and whisky, made their way to the living room and sat beside each other on the old and worn leather couch. They sipped their glasses, and stared into the fire, absently thinking that it was on with nobody in the house. They could have lost their treasures.

 

“Have fun tonight?” Ryan's deep, pleasant tone wafted across the silence like fog on a muggy day, and just as warm an sultry. Colin smiled, leaning into his lover's side.

 

“Of course, it was inspiring, and you?” Ryan thought for a second, then nodded.

 

“Oh yes, very… relaxing,” he paused to take a sip of his whisky, the fire reflecting in his eyes, making the Emerald Green irises glow like ruby's. Colin shivered, growing hard. “Nice technique, Col. Melon baller?” Colin nodded.

 

“Thank you, and yes, of course.” Ryan smirked.

 

“You remember to wash it right? It is getting to watermelon season.” Colin swirled his scotch, and drank deeply.

 

“I remember. We have to replace it anyways, it's getting dull.” Ryan stroked Colin's back in a gentle caress, breathing gently.

 

“We'll go tomorrow, I need to pick up some more jars, I'm running out.” Colin borrowed into Ryan's warmth, and mumbled an agreement. “Guess we're sleeping here huh?” Colin yawned his answer.

 

“Goodnight, Col.”

 

“Goodnight, Ry.”

 

Outside, not even the birds chirped as the rain pounded on the roof.

 

Miles away, mud gathered on two freshly dug graves.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and kudos!


End file.
